Seven Minutes
by colormeferret
Summary: Usagi, Mamoru and a reluctant game of Seven Minutes in Heaven.


Seven Minutes

T-Minus One

Mamoru wondered if this were perhaps his punishment for mistakenly revealing his identity to Motoki. Really, there would be absolutely no other reason to be a part of the arcade's lock-in. A lock-in that seemed to be the hot-spot for the twelve-year-old circuit. In fact, the oldest people there included Odango's rag-tag group of friends, himself, and Motoki.

And it seemed that the maturity of the surroundings had rubbed off on his one true savior, because there would be absolutely no other reason for his best friend to suggest seven minutes.

With Odango.

He knew he was insane. Late-night dreams of a Moon Princess first brought him around to that idea, transforming into a masked crusader confirmed it, and constantly teasing Odango solidified it. Never mind the whole falling in love, cherry on top bit of it.

That was his excuse for agreeing to play, and he was sticking to it. It definitely didn't have anything to do with a certain girl who was sitting across from him, and the things she did to him without him even knowing how or why or what.

He had managed through three rounds already without incident. But now, as the bottle he had just spun began to slow, his could feel his composure leaving him. It was almost an out-of-body experience to watch its slow circuit of the room, his heartbeat pounding in his ears in time with each whirring spin. And then it stopped.

Right in front of Odango Atama.

There was a moment of silence where everyone in the circle paused to stare at the bottle. He could see the bottle, knew he had spun it, knew that it had whizzed past Rei's disappointed face multiple times to his own elation, before finally inching past the disinterested Ami to land on Odango. And yet, his brain could not comprehend the thought.

"Oh ho ho," cackled Minako. "You're up Usagi! Seven minutes in Heaven with Mamoru!"

That zapped everyone out of the trance, because there was a sudden explosion of sound.

"No way," Rei protested immediately, pushing herself into the middle of the circle, "that bottle is definitely pointing towards me. Look at it!"

Makato grabbed Rei's arm, yanking her back and stopping her sentence short. "Stop whining, Usagi's not going to do it anyway. Don't be jealous. Mamoru just needs to spin again."

But Minako was shaking her head. "No exceptions! I had to go in there with Ami. No one protested then."

"That was different!" Rei whined.

"Not at all," Motoki interjected, grinning wildly.

Ami coughed quietly into her hand, drawing everyone's attention. "This argument is entirely unnecessary," she said meekly under everyone's scrutiny. "They aren't likely to do it, anyway, are they?"

Mamoru had wondered how long it would take them to realize that he had been silent on the entire matter so far. Not by choice of course, even for his own advanced brain some things take time to process. But he was surprised by Odango's accompanying silence.

Looking over at her, she seemed almost entranced by the bottle. He had never seen her so concentrated on something that wasn't food, and it unnerved him. He wondered if she was thinking about him. Or about kissing him, because that's what seven minutes implied.

And this silence, as she glared at the bottle, was a total antithesis to her normal demeanor. It worried him, and a nagging itch was working its way through his body, he could feel it, a tickle in his throat, words forming on his tongue -

"I'll do it."

Odango visibly started at his sentence, her gaze finally leaving the bottle to meet his. The instant her gaze met his, he knew he was doomed. There had always been a rivalry between them, an impulse to one-up the other, and he had unwittingly unleashed the newest challenge.

They both stood.

One

"Why do we get ourselves into these situations," Mamoru groaned as soon as the door closed. Usagi had to agree. Being stuck in a small storage room during a lock-in was not her idea of fun. Especially when the one requirement of the game was the absence of light.

If she hadn't seen Mamoru enter, and heard him just speak, it would be easy to forget there was another body in the impenetrable darkness. It would take awhile for her eyes to adjust to be able to even see the bare minimum of shapes. One of the great things that being called out on scout business in the early mornings had taught her.

"You didn't have to agree to it," Usagi retorted, feeling inexplicably alone despite knowing someone was little more than two feet from her.

"You didn't either," he muttered, but in the silence it carried to her easily.

She pursed her lips in agitation, but knew the action would be unseen. There was a pregnant pause, during which she strained to make out the shadows differentiating the source of her anger from the wall and the shelves that surrounded him.

"Not going to pass up an opportunity to make Rei angry," she eventually commented.

Mamoru exhaled a short bark of laughter. "Well you sure did a good job of that, Odango."

She hummed noncommittally.

Two

"So I guess we're just going to stand here?" She asked him.

Mamoru shrugged before realizing she couldn't see him. "I don't know, I suppose so."

"This was your idea!" She exclaimed. He wondered where her ire had come from.

"You didn't have to come in here," he defended, feeling as if he had already made that point. Though of course that was the case with all of their encounters – they followed the same script.

"So why did you agree to it, then?" Odango countered. He wondered that himself. Why did he say yes?

Looking at Usagi in the dark, he could begin to make out the blurred outline of her shape. Her arms were crossed defensively, a pose he was well-accustomed to seeing. He could picture the entirety of her though – blue eyes blazing, golden hair seeming to shimmer in response to the anger radiating out of her. It was hard not to like seeing her like that, riled up because of him -

He felt tense all of a sudden – it was the same feeling he repeatably had around her. Their encounters sparked odd emotions in him, more often than not uncontrollable.

"Curiousity," he eventually found himself saying. Their encounters also made his mouth uncontrollable.

"Curiosity?" She barked at him. "About what?"

"What do you think?" He retorted.

Three

It was easier now to make out Mamoru's shape. He was almost unnaturally calm, which only served to make her even more furious. Curiosity? What kind of answer was that?

Granted, she wasn't one to talk. She could care less about angering Rei, in fact it would probably better their friendship if the Senshi of Mars wasn't seething in the other room right this second.

Anyway, the bottle had stopped on her.

Her and … baka? The idea was laughable. Absurd. Crazy. That's all she could think. Tuxedo Kamen? Yes. She would be more than willing to spend seven minutes alone in a closet with him. But he was just as likely to want to be in this situation as the current occupant.

Sometimes she wished she had the foresight not to fall for the guys who would never like her back.

"We've hated each other from the minute we met." Which wasn't necessarily true for her. "Why would you be curious about me?"

She sensed more than saw Mamoru lean towards her. "Don't find me attractive, Odango?" He asked, and there was something undefinable in his voice underneath his air of cockiness.

Usagi swallowed as quietly as she could, knowing that even the tiniest movement would echo. She was hot suddenly, a burning sensation filling her chest. Normally this caused her to retort defensively with childish comebacks and motions, but in this intimate space that was ridiculous.

"You're insane," she managed to say, though her tongue felt oppressively thick.

He must have been much closer than she had judged, because unexpectedly she could feel his breath on her neck. Goosebumps traveled down her spine.

His voice was deep, much deeper than she had ever heard when he replied. "Admit it. I'm irresistible."

Four

Usagi cleared her throat uncomfortably. Not only could he hear it, but his proximity meant that he also felt it. He wondered what the hell he was doing.

"I'll admit it," she eventually said, voice low. "When you can admit I'm irresistible too."

He could sense her stubborn defiance, and it almost made him laugh. But the tension was too thick for something lighthearted like that. How had they gotten to this?

"Even if I did," he started, but then something inexplicably filled the air between them. It was like electricity, though the kind meant to zap all composure and mental thought from his body. It was kind of the same feeling he had when he started to transform, drawn like a bug to light. He eventually continued, "it wouldn't make a difference."

Mamoru felt like he was losing control of the situation much too quickly for his own liking. Or perhaps he had never had control, because thoughts were coming unbidden to his mind, and the filter to his mouth was turned off.

He took a deep breath, hoping to calm his frayed nerves, but instead he got a deep breath of Usagi. It was overwhelming to the point that he subconsciously took a step away, and for some reason his brain was instantly clearer.

"You're right," she said, but he could hear that she was struggling to control her breathing. "You're you and I'm me."

"Right," he agreed. "And we would never work." Had there even been a suggestion that they would try?

Usagi turned away then, but it seemed pointless, since he still couldn't make out much more than her eyes and a bare outline. "Never even thought about it."

There was a beat of silence, where Mamoru wondered why she had never thought about it. But that was silly, because he hadn't ever either.

"Same here," but the words were hollow even to his own ears.

Five

She was cold. There was no other way to describe it. A moment ago, she had been seized with an unnameable warmth. Now Mamoru wasn't in her personable space, and she missed him. How had she let herself get attached so quickly?

Usagi felt defensive. "I'm not a kid you know."

"I know," he replied, voice laden with emotion. "I certainly don't think of you that way."

Usagi closed her eyes to mull that over for a moment. His tone implied that it wasn't one-sided, that maybe there had always been this between them, festering and boiling until the right moment came along.

Or perhaps her hopes ran high as a by-product of too many Tuxedo Kamen fantasies.

"How do you think of me?" She turned to face him, and was momentarily stunned by a familiar feeling. A man, standing within arm's reach, turmoil evident on his face, her heart yearning to reach out to him, to close the gap and remove the mask and glamors that forced their distance.

Tuxedo Kamen had always been an ideal, the perfect man to whisk her off her feet. But Mamoru – he wore an ugly green jacket, yet had been a model. He was older, more mature, yet still could keep up with her childish side. His best friend was Motoki, he drank coffee every morning, and could whoop her at the Sailor V game. He brought out the worst in her on her best days, driving her insane with his gorgeous smile. He wasn't an unattainable dream, a possible enemy, he was ...

Baka.

Mamoru looked up then, as if by drawn by her thoughts, and their gazes met, the only discernible part of him that she could clearly see.

His eyes were mesmerizing. She felt delirious.

The pocket of her skirt grew hot then, burning her outer thigh and making her jump. She reached down, and took out the star-shaped locket, unprepared by the brightness it was emitting.

"What is that?" Mamoru complained, covering his eyes momentarily with his hands. Usagi ignored him.

Why was the locket responding to him? It only opened when Tuxedo Kamen …

She closed it quickly, shoving it in her pocket and forcing them back into darkness.

Six

Mamoru knew his brain was overwhelmed. His thoughts were running a mile a minute, and now he was forced to readjust to the darkness.

"Odango?" His voice was overly loud in the oppressive silence. "Where did that light come from?"

There was a pause, and then, "How long do you think we've been in here?"

"A couple minutes," he said, then he lowered his tone. "Don't avoid the question."

Even by now he couldn't make out the slightest bit of her, so he reached forward, his hand coming into contact with hers. He let it linger there to anchor himself, but also hoping that the warmth of the contact was as intoxicating to her as it always was to him.

Usagi exhaled loudly, and he could feel her slump suddenly, almost as if in resignation.

Her other hand came to rest on his chest, and he was all too aware of how close they had become. He hoped she couldn't feel his heart beating wildly right underneath her palm. "Mamoru," she whispered, barely a breath of a sound. "I ..."

Mamoru let his fingers intertwine with hers, feeling her compliance with the action despite the fact that he knew she wasn't looking at him. He let his other hand come to rest on her waist, the heat of her skin warming his through her thick clothes. It was almost unbearably hot, and he felt himself flushing, yet still drawing curiously closer to her.

In the darkness he had forgotten how easy it was to lose track of distance, because Usagi's hair was brushing against his nose, and then his cheek as he leaned into her. Her face came to rest against the crook of his neck, but even the soft accidental touch of her lips there wasn't enough.

He let her fingers drop, so that instead his hand could trail up her arm to her face. She pulled away barely, enough room now that his hand could rest gently on her face, lifting it.

"Usagi..."

His thumb began to make sweeping circles on her soft cheek, an undeniable caress.

He was insane. His nose was bumping against hers, and he clenched the hand on her waist in anticipation, holding her close, and there was something there, in her skirt pocket, a star-shaped object -

Seven

Usagi knew. She knew the moment their fingers had touched there was no denying it. This was something much beyond her, something uncontrollable and dark and crazy, and that her worlds were colliding faster than she could understand.

She also knew that she was just Usagi, and that couldn't stay a secret for long.

So when Mamoru began to pull away, obviously having felt the locket, confusion beginning to mar his face, she realized that she was about to miss the one chance she may ever have. Abandoning all caution to the wind, she grabbed a hold of his lapels, and yanked him forward.

Her first kiss.

Usagi could feel his sharp intake as their lips touched. His were dry, almost as if he had been breathing deeply, attempting to catch his breath, and yet hers were on fire. It was instinctual to open herself, and her lips, to him, like a slow dance they had done a million times before. Her mouth was moving gently against his, coaxing him, knowing she was the one doing the saving for once.

All too soon, her lungs were burning, demanding air, and inwardly she laughed at forgetting Makato's advice about breathing through her nose. Too late now, but perhaps it was for the best. She would have to face her impending death sometime.

She pulled back and opened her eyes to see Mamoru frozen still, eyes closed. There were a thousand things she wanted to say then, her mind rifling through them as quickly as they could come. I'm Sailor Moon, you're Tuxedo Kamen. Are you an enemy? Are you disappointed? This game was the stupidest and greatest idea ever invented. I think I've always loved you. Both of you.

Her rambling train of thought was interrupted by a sudden sound of laughter. Mamoru was laughing. Soft at first, almost under his breath, but then louder and fuller. Usagi didn't know whether to be insulted, or … well, she didn't know what else.

"Usagi," he said, but his tone wasn't of anger or condensation, like she was accustomed, but rather elation. She wondered if perhaps she had hit her head somewhere along the way.

"Usagi," he said again, and his hands raised from where they had laid limply at his side to cup her face gently. "Usagi," and this time a soft utterance, almost a prayer.

It was strange to see his face so unguarded, so close, but at the same time it held an air of familiarity. In his gaze she saw acceptance, recognition, and, as his thumb gently traced the edge of her lip, desire.

He was kissing her again abruptly, but now she could feel the want burning on his lips as well. As much as the kiss before had been tentative, questioning, probing, this kiss was demanding. There was a sharp need to be as close as possible to Mamoru, and she desperately wanted to touch him, all of him, all at once. Fire met fire as their lips moved heatedly against one another.

Plus One

Through the buzzing in his ears and the concentration it took to remember to breathe, Mamoru was surprised that he managed to hear the sharp rapping on the closet door. He wondered how long the noise had been going on. Of course, not enough to bother checking. They could wait.

"Come out, come out," hollered Minako from the other side. "Time is up!"

He pulled away slightly, enough so that instead he could trail his kisses across Usagi's cheek and down her neck, before tracing that same trail up to her already swollen lips.

"Did they sneak out or something?" Makato questioned.

"Don't be silly," Rei countered angrily. Her voice awoke his common sense, because he reached into his space pocket, pulled out a rose, and threw it at the door blindly. Mamoru hoped it would jam the lock, and when he heard Rei jiggling the handle, he knew he had been successful.

As a reward to himself, he continued plundering Usagi's lips.

"Must be jammed," Rei continued. He could hear some of the other girls giggling, and one threatened to escape from his throat.

"So it seems," Motoki responded. He felt Usagi stifling a laugh herself, playfulness exuding from her, and it only made him pull her even closer, his hands beginning to drift across the soft skin on the small of her back.

"What do we do?" panicked Rei. "They're stuck! I'm sure Mamoru doesn't want to be in there any longer than necessary!"

"Mamoru's fine," Motoki countered.

"They could be fighting!"

"Rei," Minako began, "they'd be making a lot more noise. Let's go back to the party."

The commotion on the other side of the door quickly receded, presumably as the group dissipated. Mamoru was glad that the disturbance was over. He was rather busy.

Just as he was beginning to once again devote his full concentration to the girl in his arms, he heard a soft tap at the door, and then a soft voice.

"Usagi," Ami whispered, "if you need anything - remember your communicator." The soft click of her heels fading away signaled her departure.

Usagi pulled away just the slightest, but Mamoru took that as his cue to return to covering the delicate skin of her neck with soft butterfly kisses.

"Wait," Usagi struggled to get out. The soft pressure of her hands against his chest stopped him. Leaning back on his heels, he took a moment to look into her eyes, sensing her reluctance.

"I may be Sailor Moon, but I'm still just Usagi," she said eventually after a moment's hesitation.

He shook his head gently, words catching in his throat, hoping that she could sense the movement.

"I know," he uttered, brushing a few stray hairs out of her face. "You've always driven me crazy, and I think," here his voice cracked slightly at the thought of what he was about to confess, "without even realizing it, I've always -"

A delicate finger covered his lips, preventing him from speaking. Usagi reached into her pocket, pulling out the locket that had brought them to this moment. Her attention focused singularly on it as it sat quietly, inconspicuously in her palm. "You said once that you knew me a long time ago. But you talk about the princess ..." she trailed off.

He brought his hand up to cover the locket, drawing Usagi's attention to him again. She looked up. "I don't care," he said, hoping to convey his conviction. "I don't care about the princess, or who or what we were. I don't think I could get up in the morning knowing I wouldn't see you, Usagi. I need you – just you."

Her smile brightened the dark room. "Okay. I can do that." Usagi's face was alight with happiness, but there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "You know, they aren't going to miss us if we stay in here a little bit longer."

He answered her grin with his own. "I like the way you think."


End file.
